Being on the road for the last nine days across three Northeastern States; namely Meghalaya, Mizoram and Tripura was sheer joy.
It is a shame that I am not able to fully describe the sights, sounds and taste of it all. And even if I tried to, it would only be an abstraction of what was there, who was there and where was there.
Why was there? I do not know and I do not seek answers to that… I was fortunate to live it.
Interestingly, the ride drawing closer to Shillong made me hear myself saying, “…aah, home!” and it took me aback. It makes me excited as well.
One thing has been affirmed, I like going to new places and befriending strangers…
It is from these experiences and life travels, I have been taught that those unknown places are now home to me and those strangers have now become friends.
In a town where reports regarding devil worship is finding headlines, I attended a Pork Ceremony for Friday the 13th.
In Hmar custom, pig seems to be quite a show stealer. It is killed for various occasions and the body parts are distributed accordingly.
Tonight, two non-Hmar gentlemen received the back portion of pig meat alongside the responsibility of being the “man of the house.”
They have been promoted to the ranks of sharing a father responsibility to the house which hosted the event. In case of any decision making for the family, these two have equal say as well.
Amidst friends and family, the mother explained the reasons for the gathering as she brought out a bucket of pig meat and made them touch it.
But the dinner included well-cooked, boiled and intestinal pork dishes. For medical reasons I have been advised to stay away from pork… but for today’s special occasion, I had my share of vawk sa.
It was an hour past noon when we climbed on the back of a pick-up and started for North Mizoram. The ride showcased populated Aizawl hills disappearing at a distance as the lush welcoming hills found way to present silhoutted outlines against the setting sun. I soon found myself sleeping under the stars as I stared heavenward romanticizing the vast constellation and failing to realize how bumpy the roads were…
Woke up to the sound of pouring rain where villagers were busy preparing the delicacy of the day. (If you know what I mean) With a total of 320 houses and about 3000 population, this is an exclusive Hmar-Mizo village where locals shake hands with the firmest grip ever.
But the morning rain was no spoiler for the afternoon sun and the prettiest afternoon-evening time in a while. Surrounded by breathtaking mountains, I have tried to capture a few shots –but believe me, it does no justice to what existed there.
The rain had done its part. There were a few landslides and high possibility of being stuck in Khawlien for a while. But the communal taskforce from the village got 16 men to work as they cleared off the rock-laden cliffy-road for us to be on our way back to Aizawl town.
Good Friday morning, I was trying to draw water from the well… to wash my sneakers.
And out of nowhere, my Nokia 1100 flew off my pocket and dove -landing without a dramtic splash.
I was quite numb about its departure and went back to washing my shoes.
In 20 minutes or so, somebody voluntered to go down and fetch 1100.
I helped him arrange the mobile stairs to descend below ground -not really expecting to see 1100.
But guess what? 1100 saw sunlight once again and though it was fully immersed in water, it gave a slight hope of restoring the lost numbers.
Fortunatley, it has risen to do more than that. It is as good as new –working hard and has traveled all the way to spend easter morning in Mizoram with me.
Good easter story huh!
For those who have no idea who Nokia 1100 is, you can check it out at: http://www.nokia.co.in/nokia/0,,45346,00.html